Bleeding Green Read Free Page A

crunching his aluminum can in one hand. “Going to take a lot of water.”
    He always reminded her of a blond Viking. And he was right. The partially decomposed organic material—what they called duff—was deep all over this zone. “Let’s get on it,” she said. “Lots of smoldering stumps, as well.”
    Standing up straight, she motioned to Brock. “You drive. Marie, you take the hose.”
    Laurel looked at Bill. “You okay with a chainsaw?”
    Bill threw his shoulders back, a big grin spreading on his face. “I was raised on chainsaws! In fact my mama tells me, I was born with a saw in my hand!”
    Marie socked him in his right shoulder, laughing. “Right, Bill. You eat nails for breakfast, too!”
    Dividing into two groups, three with the fire truck and two on the E-Z-Go, they began to work the line.
    Brock inched the truck along as Marie walked with the Booster reel fire hose in her hands. They called this “bumping up”—a necessary practice on any fire.
    The air-conditioned cab offered a welcome respite from the heat. Brock enjoyed the reprieve, even as he kept a sharp gaze on Marie in the left side mirror, watching for her signals. He looked for telltale signs of smoke at the same time.
    Marie made a fist with her hand and Brock stopped the truck. Dragging the hose along the ashy ground, Marie hunched forward, straining with the effort.
    Seeing the tall pine that Marie was heading toward, Bill trotted with a fire rake in his left hand and grabbed the middle of the hose to help ease her burden. This also kept the hose off some of the hotter ground.
    Reaching the smoldering tree, Marie aimed the water at the highest section. Smoke hissed and sparks flew as water hit the tree. A red-hot ember fell on Marie’s neck.
    She throttled back on the nozzle of the hose and bent over, swiping at her neck, then opened the hose and again worked the smoldering tree.
    Laurel drove several hundred feet ahead in the E-Z Go. A 25-gallon water tank lay in the bed of the vehicle. Riding next to her was an AmeriCorps member from Louisiana. She loved the drawl of this young African-American. When Lawrence spoke, Laurel imagined the sweet fragrance of gardenias, hanging moss in huge live oak trees. Might be silly on her part, but just watching his easy mannerisms and hearing that drawl, made her body relax.
    Lawrence pointed to a fiery stump about twenty-five yards in.
    She turned the E-Z- Go and drove with caution around smoking cabbage palms, downed logs and deep holes of rooting feral hogs.
    When she stopped within a few feet of the flaming stump, Lawrence jumped out. He grabbed the small water hose and began walking with an easy stride, spraying a fine stream of water at the stump. He took another step forward and suddenly sank about three feet.
    Laurel jumped from the vehicle and ran toward him, but he just grinned at her and clawed back up to stable ground, filthy with white ash and black soot.
    “No worries, Ms. Laurel!”
    Grinning in return, Laurel thumped her right fist over her heart. “Oh, my word! You stepped in an …”
    “…ass hole!” he interrupted her.
    “Ash hole, Lawrence, ash hole!”
    “Yes, ma’am! There be many ass holes out here fightin’ this fire. Why, I think we all ought to be in the loony bin for doin’ this kinda work.” He winked with wicked delight. “We’re nothin’ but a bunch of semi-controlled pyromaniacs! At least that’s what these fancy folks livin’ in their fine mansions think of us nutty rangers runnin’ round lightin’ fires, just so’s we kin put ‘em out.”
    “Maybe so. But by deliberately lighting this one, we just prevented a wildfire the next time lightning strikes this area! Come on, Lawrence! Let’s get a move on. I’ve something waiting for me at home that’s counting on dinner.”
    Lawrence rolled the hose up and hopped on the seat.
    “If you’re talking about that elephant dawg of yours, he must eat you outta house and home.”
    “Best alarm system I